


Something I Never Know

by sunshinexbomb



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Feelings Realization, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 22:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10545424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinexbomb/pseuds/sunshinexbomb
Summary: “Your shirt Sidney. Oh my god, did you get dressed in the dark - in the middle of DC too - if someone gets a picture you’ll never hear the end of it -”Sidney frowns deeply before glancing down at the shirt he’d grabbed that morning and - fuck.He scrambles quickly for his sweater, covering up the “Capitals Hockey” displayed boldly across his chest, the number eight in the corner of the shirt a bit more subtle but undeniably there. It’s a standard locker room shirt, Sidney has about a million of them, but this one is definitely not his.--In which Sidney accidentally grabs the wrong shirt after leaving Alex's one morning and starts to realize that maybe these days he's looking for more than just a quick fuck.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic months and months and months ago and I finally managed to finish it in an attempt to clear my writer's block. I changed my mind on what I wanted it to be about a hundred times, but I think I'm happy with the end product.
> 
> Thank you to TC for the beta! All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> This is clearly fictional, etc. etc. Title is from "Toothbrush" by DNCE.

Like most things about him, Alex’s house is ridiculous. Somehow, there’s both too much space and too much _stuff_ at the same time. There’s the tasteful decorations, the things that Sidney knows were placed and chosen carefully by a professional when Alex first moved in. But then there are the things that are undeniably just Alex, Capitals hoodies and dog toys and bookcases filled with Russian texts on sports medicine from when Alex was working on his degree. It’s a mess, it’s always a mess, but Sidney’s always sort of appreciated that it feels lived in, homey, like when he was still living with the Lemieux’s.

“Your house is ridiculous,” Sidney says, toeing off his shoes carefully by the door. He’s not sure why he’s here, how he always ends up in this same situation.

“You say that every time,” Alex says with a laugh, and Sidney just shrugs because it’s true.

“Because it still surprises me,” Sidney says.

“I’m full of surprises,” Alex says, and Sidney doesn’t reply because that’s true too.

It’s not surprising when Alex kisses him at the foot of his staircase, and Sidney’s grateful for it. The feel of Alex’s mouth is familiar, and so is the gentle hand on Sidney’s jaw. Both of them have changed so much since this first started, new scars and broken bones and strengthened muscles. But Alex is still solid and he’s still warm and Sidney can still feel him everywhere when they kiss, not just against him, but in the heat in his belly and in the gentle, excited thrumming of his heart.

“Want anything to drink? Eat?” Alex asks, breaking the kiss. He’s still close, their noses brushing.

Sidney doesn’t say _I only want you_ because it feels too raw, too honest, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking it, from meaning it. He just shakes his head in response, kissing Alex again, harder this time, nipping at his bottom lip, and enjoying the way that Alex’s hands come to rest on his hips.

They make their way up the stairs eventually, Alex stopping to kiss Sidney against the door to his room. Sidney’s hand scrambles for the doorknob, and they stumble in surprise when Sidney manages to get the door open.

“It’s a mess in here,” Sidney says dryly when Alex flicks on the light. There’s clothes littered on the floor, some of Alex’s practice gear spilling out of his bag, and his sheets and comforter are rumpled at the foot of his bed.

Alex is the one to shrug this time, a smile teasing on his face when he says, “Housekeeping come on Saturdays. Sorry did not think to clean up for special visit from Sidney Crosby.”

Sidney hates that his face still turns red when Alex says stuff like that, jabs that he knows will get under Sidney’s skin, even if it’s not in the same way that it used to when they were younger and everything about Alex set Sidney on edge. He still sets Sidney on edge, but it’s a different sort of tension, excitement and anticipation instead of anger or frustration.

“Shut up,” Sidney says, retaliating by pushing Alex towards the unmade bed.

Alex complies easily, even though there’s no reason he should when he’s got more muscle and more height than Sidney has. Alex could easily push back, and Sidney knows he does, when they’re on the ice and battling for the puck, rushing towards the net, dropping gloves and grappling at each other almost uselessly. But here, away from the harsh lights of the arena, here where it’s just Sidney and Alex, Alex follows wherever Sidney guides him.

“You’re okay with having sex on messy bed?” Alex asks, still teasing even as Sidney pushes him on his back and straddles his waist. “Can probably call housekeeper quickly -”

Sidney doesn’t say anything, shutting him up with a kiss instead. Alex’s mouth is hot against his, his beard scratching against Sidney’s face, rough enough to leave a mark.

Sidney’s already getting hard in his jeans, dick starting to strain against the zipper as Alex kisses his neck. Things are moving slowly, more slowly than usual, more slowly than Sidney wants. There’s always heat between them, but Sidney sometimes wishes that there was the same kind of urgency there was back when they’d fuck roughly in hotel rooms or risk quick handjobs in empty rooms of crowded arenas while one of them was still reeling off the sting of a loss.

Instead, it’s closed bedroom doors and luxury sheets and arriving to the city a night early to see each other now. Instead of the scrape of Alex’s teeth and the bruises left by his fingertips, it’s the soft heat of Alex’s mouth on Sidney’s collarbones and his fingertips ghosting over the planes of his stomach as they find his dick.

“Will I get to fuck you tonight?” Alex asks, popping open the button of Sidney’s jeans.

Sidney lets Alex push them off of him, kicking them to the floor along with Alex’s mess as he asks, “What do you think I’m here for?”

“See my pretty face, enjoy my wonderful company, admire my beautiful home -”

Alex cuts off with a groan when Sidney grinds his hips down purposefully.

“The game’s not for another couple days, it’s fine,” Sidney says, breathing heavy against Alex’s mouth when Alex gets his hands on Sidney’s ass.

Sidney’s shirt gets lost among the mess on Alex’s floor, as does Alex’s after they struggle to get it over the top of his head. It leaves his hair a mess, short strands facing every direction, and Sidney can’t resist running his fingers through them.

“And the press think my head’s the one that’s getting too big,” Sidney says, a bit too soft, a bit too fond, but Alex just laughs, kissing him in a way that’s almost sweet.

Sidney kicks out of his briefs when Alex’s hands start to wander down again, leaving his dick hard and heavy between his legs as he strips Alex’s down too. This time, when Alex kisses him, it’s filthy, much more what Sidney’s used to with its roughness.

“You open yourself up already?” Alex asks, eyes dark when he brushes his finger against Sidney’s hole.

Sidney can’t help the blush that rises to his cheek, and he bites his lip when Alex starts to press his finger in, easy. “Yeah, didn’t want to waste time -”

They still use lube, Sidney fucking himself down on two of Alex’s fingers as Alex mouths at the chain around Sidney’s neck. But Sidney’s ready to feel fuller, to feel the press of Alex’s dick in him again.

Sometimes, on these kind of nights, with him and Alex together, Sidney wonders why it is that things between them are so easy behind closed doors. Because off the ice, away from the press, when it’s just him and Alex’s mouth against his and the burn of his thighs as he rocks back on Alex’s dick, Sidney thinks there’s so much about them that clicks, feeling as natural as tape-to-tape passes and one-timers into the back of the net.

Sidney comes first, his orgasm building almost embarrassingly fast when Alex wraps a large hand around his dick. He clenches tight around Alex as he does, Alex spitting out a choked curse in return. He manages to buck his hips into Sidney a few more times before coming himself, his fingers tangled in Sidney’s hair as they meet in a messy kiss.

They don’t lie around too long, Sidney cleaning them up quickly with the washcloths he knows Alex keeps in his ensuite and Alex wiggling back into his briefs and throwing Sidney’s back at him as well when Sidney returns from the washroom. Sidney does crawl back into Alex’s stupidly large bed with him, though, slotting himself under Alex’s arm because at some point Sidney realized he likes a bit of a cuddle after sex.

“Going to stay tonight?” Alex asks.

Sidney shouldn’t, he _knows_ he shouldn’t because staying makes this feel like more than it is, more than their usual quick fuck between games a few times a year. Because last time he’d stayed and he’d woken up to Alex’s arm around his waist, Alex’s nose pressed to his hair, and he’d felt something deep in his gut that wasn’t just arousal, and Sidney still can’t seem to forget about it.

“I could stay,” he says instead, because Alex is warm beside him and there’s a part of Sidney that’s always been a little selfish, “tomorrow’s our day off, all I was going to do is go out with Flower.”

Alex is going through his phone with his free hand, and he doesn’t even look up when he asks, “Hot date?”

“We’re going to the Smithsonian.”

“Sexy.”

Sidney elbows Alex in the gut, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get a yelp out of him as he drops his phone in surprise. “Shut up, I’m excited,” Sidney grumbles, “we don’t usually get time off here.”

“Smithsonian boring, American history boring,” Alex says. “Flower also boring, I would be a better date.”

“Right,” Sidney scoffs, face turning a bit hot, “that would be a great day for the press, wouldn’t it? Sidney Crosby and Alexander Ovechkin put aside rivalry for trip to Museum of Natural History.”

“Better than articles about feud that doesn’t exist,” Alex mumbles, “think they would get tired, writing same thing for ten years -”

Alex cuts himself off, shrugging slightly before returning to his phone. Sidney doesn’t disagree, not when he’s so tired of it all too, not when he wants to tell Alex that he would love to have him as a date, a day that’s just the two of them somewhere new without prying eyes.

Instead, Sidney kisses Alex’s shoulder softly, glad that it relieves a bit of the tension there. Alex tightens his arm around Sidney who eventually drifts off, listening to the calm and steady rhythm of Alex’s breathing.

\--

Sidney wakes up in the morning to Alex elbowing him in the stomach which is rude and uncalled for when he was sleeping better than he had in weeks.

“What the fuck?” Sidney grumbles a bit breathlessly, annoyed when he realizes Alex is still mostly asleep and not even looking at him. His face is pressed against his pillow and he mumbles something unintelligible in response.

“What?”

“Shut your fucking phone off,” Alex says more clearly and it’s only then that Sidney notices the screen of his phone lighting up where it’s peeking out from underneath Alex’s pillow.

Sidney grabs it a bit guiltily and then feels even worse when he sees the time and his missed calls and messages from Flower.

“Fuck, I’m late,” Sidney says, scrambling out of bed, grabbing at clothes blindly from the floor. He doesn’t remember exactly where he’d thrown his shirt the night before but he’s sure it was in this general direction and his jeans are easier to find because Alex’s would never fit him.

Alex has at least rolled over now, watching Sidney with bleary eyes. “Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting Flower, I told you last night -”

“Oh right, for world’s most sexy date.”

“Sorry for running out like this,” Sidney says, cursing when his phone starts ringing again in his hand. He rejects the call but texts Flower quickly, which just results in an onslaught of messages with lots of unhappy looking emojis.

Sidney’s startled when Alex grabs his arm, pulling him in for a kiss that Sidney relaxes into quickly. He curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of Alex’s neck and he wants nothing but to crawl back into bed when Alex bites softly on his bottom lip.

“Go, have fun with Flower,” Alex says when they part. Sidney’s feeling a bit dazed and he almost misses it when Alex asks, “Will I see you again?”

“Yeah, at the game,” Sidney says and Alex rolls his eyes.

“Will I see you _here_ again?”

“I think it depends on how the game goes, doesn’t it?” Sidney says, and it’s meant to be a joke, but it comes out as more of a question. He’s mostly ignoring the way his phone is going off in his hand at this point, more curious about Alex’s answer and his searching eyes.

When Alex smiles, it’s a bit different than the one Sidney usually sees, the one he puts in front of the camera or when he’s teasing Sidney about something that he knows will get under his skin. It’s genuine, and it crinkles the corner of his eyes where his laugh lines are another reminder of just how much time has passed between them. “I think I’d like to see you either way,” Alex says sincerely and Sidney’s chest tightens a bit.

Sidney’s inadvertently denied Alex a lot of things over the years, gold medals and a cup with his name on it and chances to prove himself, and it’s because Sidney’s selfish and never denies himself things he knows he can have if he works for them.

This is something Sidney could never deny Alex because it’s something he could never deny for himself.

“Then you’ll see me,” he says, and he kisses Alex once more before he leaves.

\--

“You’re so fucking late,” Flower says, arms crossed and frowning when Sidney finally gets to the restaurant they agreed to meet at.

“Sorry, I know,” Sidney apologizes, “I was -” he stops, because Flower knows, of course Flower knows where it is that Sidney sneaks off to four times a year. But saying it aloud, admitting that he was at _Alex’s,_ is another thing altogether.

“I forgot to set an alarm,” Sidney finishes lamely, and Flower rolls his eyes so hard that it makes Sidney wince.

“Yeah, sure,” Flower scoffs. “I ordered for you already,” he adds when Sidney picks up his menu, and Sidney gives him a sheepish look.

“Don’t you say you’re fucking sorry again,” Flower says when Sidney opens his mouth.

“Did you order me something good?” Sidney asks instead and Flower laughs.

“I ordered you something you’d like,” Flower says, which isn’t the same thing, but Sidney smiles gratefully anyway.

Flower doesn’t ask about Sidney’s night at all, and Sidney doesn’t offer. Flower does show Sidney some of the new pictures he’s taken of his kids and asks Sidney if he thinks getting a dog would be a good idea - he doesn’t, honestly - and questions what Sidney’s going to be doing with their upcoming bye week. It’s relaxed, easy conversation and it takes his mind off of Alex for a while, of what it had felt like to kiss Alex goodbye, of the look in Alex’s eye when he said he’d like to see Sidney again that week.

The conversation dies down a bit when they get their food, and Sidney strips out of his sweater because the restaurant is stifling hot to make up for the DC chill outside. He’s draping the sweater across the back of his chair when Flower makes a startled, strangled noise.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck, Sid? Put that back on,” Flower hisses when Sidney turns to look at him, confused.

“Flower it’s like a billion degrees in here -” Sidney starts, but he’s quickly interrupted.

“Your _shirt_ Sidney. Oh my god, did you get dressed in the dark - in the middle of DC too - if someone gets a picture you’ll never hear the end of it -”

Flower looks like he’s unsure whether to laugh or not, like when he accidentally lets in easy shots by the rookies during practice. Sidney frowns deeply before glancing down at the shirt he’d grabbed that morning and - fuck.

He scrambles quickly for his sweater, covering up the “Capitals Hockey” displayed boldly across his chest, the number eight in the corner of the shirt, a bit more subtle but undeniably there. It’s a standard locker room shirt, Sidney has about a million of them, but this one is definitely _not his_.

Sidney’s face is burning hot when he gets the sweater over his head, glad that he’d at least thought to keep that and his jacket separately when he’d gotten to Alex’s the night before. Even if there is no picture, he knows it doesn’t matter - there’s no way Flower will ever let him live this down anyway.

“I - I don’t - I must’ve -” Sidney says, stumbling over his words, clearly flustered. “Fuck.”

Flower can’t seem to hold in his laughter anymore, and it comes out in peals, his face turning red. Sidney hates him.

“I hope I’m the only one who saw that,” Flower finally says, still giggling, “though I’d like to see you explain it to the press.”

“I’d tell them it was your fault, obviously.”

Flower rolls his eyes. “Clearly I made you walk out in public in Alex Ovechkin’s clothes.”

Sidney just crosses his arms in response, hands tucked self-consciously underneath them. He feels hot under the collar and not just from the stuffiness of the restaurant. It’s ridiculous, but Sidney can almost _feel_ the screen print of the t-shirt, of the number eight, like it’s burning a mark on his skin.

“You can’t mention this to anyone,” Sidney says seriously.

Flower sarcastically mimes zipping his lips, but it’s enough to make Sidney relax. He trusts Flower, more than he trusts almost anyone else, and he knows that if he wants this to be kept between them, Flower will do it.

“You know it could’ve been worse,” Flower says, laughing when Sidney looks at him warily. “It could’ve been one of those awful shirts him and Geno always seem to find.”

And that at last is enough to make Sidney laugh also.

\--

Sidney strips out of the shirt as soon as he's back in his hotel room, leaving it on his bed as he heads into the shower. It's still there when he comes out, and Sidney’s not sure why he expected anything different.

He picks it up while getting dressed, the fabric soft in his hands. The shirt is well-worn, the stitching a little frayed. There's a small hole near the bottom that Sidney’s just noticing now, and he wonders how it got there. It's easy for Sidney to picture Alex wearing the shirt, how the gray would look against his skin and how the fabric would stretch across the broad expanse of his back. Sidney wants to know how long Alex has had it, where he's worn it and where he's taken it.

Sidney knows so much about Alex. In his head, Sidney can map out all his curves and edges. He knows the sharpness of Alex's teeth and the bite of his words. Even without him there, Sidney can feel the blunt dig of Alex's fingernails against his back and the scratch of Alex's stubble against his jaw.

Sidney knows the force of Alex's one-timer, the speed with which he moves, the strength of his body when he checks someone along the boards. He's familiar with the tightness in Alex's smiles when interviews take a bad turn and the joy in his face and in his laughter when his team gets the puck into the net.

There's a lot Sidney doesn't know, though, and it's easy to realize that while he's sitting on his bed, holding a part of Alex that's probably been through more with him than Sidney has.

Before he can convince himself not to, Sidney slips the shirt back on. It doesn't fit quite right, tight in the wrong places and loose and stretched out in other places where Sidney’s shirts never are. It is soft, though, and there's a faint scent of Alex's cologne stuck to it when Sidney brings the fabric up to his nose.

Sidney blushes, embarrassed at himself, and he tries to push down the bit of heat simmering in his belly. He's being ridiculous and he knows it.

Before Sidney gets into bed, he texts Alex goodnight, and when he's drifting off, the spot where the eight is against his chest feels warm again.

\--

Sidney doesn't wear the shirt to morning skate the next morning, mostly to avoid questions. He tucks it into his bag, though, pushes it down so it's near the bottom and not peaking out where anyone could find it. Knowing it's there makes his bag feel almost heavier when he hitches it over his shoulder, and his face warms up when he gets a text from Alex wishing him a good practice.

"I see you did remember to bring some of your own stuff," Flower chirps quietly on the bus, patting the "87" on Sidney's chest right where the "8" was sitting heavier last night. Sidney just rolls his eyes and punches him in the thigh, putting on his headphones as a sign that he definitely does not want to talk about his outfit choices during the short ride to Kettler.

Practice itself is fast and intense, but it's also fun and Sidney feels _good,_ fueled to skate harder by the banner in the back congratulating Holtby's last shut out and all the red and white serving as a reminder that this a game that matters. Everything seems to be going right, their powerplay unit clicking as Geno's passes somehow find him by magic and Sidney's line finally starts to find the chemistry that they've been lacking the past couple days.

Sidney's smiling wide during a water break, laughing at the ridiculous argument Shearsy and Rusty have gotten themselves into, when Geno skates up to him lazily, bumping into him softly and playfully.

"You in good mood today," Geno says, "playing good. Have fun with Flower yesterday?"

"Yeah," Sidney says, still smiling. "It was nice to go out and see some of the city for once."

"You don't see city, you see museum," Geno says. "Flower a very boring date. Or maybe Sid a very boring date, I don't know, sounds more like your idea."

"You sound just like Alex," Sidney says without thinking, not realizing it until he sees the shit-eating grin on Geno's face.

"Probably because Sasha know he's better date than Flower. You see him? When? Last night?"

"No, uh, night before, when I came down early," Sidney admits, which only makes Geno's grin widen.

"Sasha very bad friend. Real dick. Will take booty call from Sid but won't answer my texts."

"It wasn't a booty call," Sidney squawks indignantly.

"He call you and you go sleep with him. Sounds like booty call," Geno says, shrugging.

Sidney frowns. He doesn’t know why Geno’s words are getting under his skin, why they’re making him buzz a little with discomfort. Sidney’s never been anything but honest himself about what it is that him and Alex do. Maybe Sidney wants a bit more than a few days of them fucking whatever they need to - whether it’s stress or aggression or frustration - out of their system. But he’s never tried to convince himself that it was anything but that.

“What’s wrong?” Geno asks, bumping their shoulders together gently. Sidney shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “Did I say something?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Sidney grumbles. “I guess it’s just sort of weird still to talk about it sometimes. The whole thing with me and Alex.”

“Weird because you weird and Sasha weird,” Geno says plainly, and it startles a laugh out of Sidney. “But is good to talk about. Especially if it’s more than just booty call.”

The whistle calling them back to center ice blows, saving Sidney from having to answer. He tries to shrug off whatever it is still crawling over his skin, funneling his extra energy into practice instead. Right now, he has a game prepare for, and he knows his thoughts about Alex can wait.

\--

Sidney’s not as serious about his pre-game rituals as he once was. He goes through them because they're familiar and they're calming and maybe there's a part of him that thinks they'll bring him a bit of luck, but he knows that the game will be what he makes it and how he plays it.

When Sidney thinks back to their practice, though, to their energy and their chemistry and the way their passes clicked, for some reason, the first thing his mind goes to is Alex's shirt at the bottom of his hockey bag.

Sidney fishes it out as he's getting dressed in his suit. It's a bit wrinkled, and it smells a bit more like him rather than Alex now. The shirt isn't lucky, he knows it's not. Even if luck worked somewhere outside his own head, Sidney’s pretty sure that wearing _Alex's_ shirt when he's about to face his team would be messing with the ways of the universe, not bringing him that extra edge.

Even then, he slips it on before buttoning one of his looser dress shirts over it carefully. It couldn't hurt, and Sidney knows the team could use a little bit of whatever it was driving them through their practice.

\--

They win and Sidney tries not to believe it’s because of the shirt sitting back in the visitors’ locker room. They win because Sidney plays well and Shearsy makes a beautiful goal and Flower is standing on his head to keep them in the game.

It’s not because of luck, it’s definitely not because _Alex’s shirt_ is lucky.

Sidney still puts it back on before he leaves the arena, though, and he keeps it on, underneath his jacket, when he heads to Alex’s like he promised.

\--

“Was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” Alex says when he opens the door to let Sidney into his place.

“Your house is clean,” Sidney says, and then adds, “I wasn’t sure you would want to see me.”

Alex closes the door behind Sidney and then kisses him, soft and deep and surprisingly sweet considering a few hours ago, Sidney had been slashing at his wrists.

“Didn’t want Sidney Crosby to have to fuck on messy bed again,” Alex says with a laugh, and also adds, “Said I wanted to see you either way. Was not lying.”

Sidney bristles a little at the first part, shoulders stiffening unexpectedly and his skin buzzing again just like at practice with Geno. Alex is quick to realize something is wrong, his hands leaving their place on Sidney’s hips as he steps back with a frown.

“What is it?” he asks.

Sidney’s not sure what it is, what exactly he wants, or even what he could say to Alex about all this. He’s surprises himself when he asks, “What are we doing?”

The look on Alex’s face is funny, his half-smile amused and a little confused. “Don’t know what you are doing, but I was planning on taking you up to my newly cleaned room -”

“Alex,” Sidney says firmly, cutting off his teasing. He feels like he’s eighteen again, when Alex always knew just how to push his buttons, except Alex isn’t even doing it on purpose now, and somehow that just makes Sidney feel worse, more tense and riled up than he has been in a long time around Alex.

Alex’s smile drops and he grabs Sidney’s hand. Sidney lets Alex drag him deeper into the house, lets him take Sidney to the living room where they take a seat on Alex’s large couch together. Alex doesn’t say anything, just waits while Sidney takes a few deep breaths. Sidney has never seen him be so patient.

“I don’t mean what are we doing now,” Sidney says finally. “I mean, what have we been doing? Where is this going?”

“I don’t know,” Alex says honestly. His hand is still in Sidney’s, big and warm and familiar despite the new scars and callouses on them that Sidney’s never seen, never felt.

Sidney’s chest is tight. He’s nervous, confused, all of it combining into an anxiety he doesn’t know what to do with. He says, “I think it’s been a long time since I’ve thought of this as just a quick fuck.”

“And when did you realize that?” Alex asks, head tilted. He’s steady, calm, nothing like the way he is on ice with his speed and his manic energy. It’s a side to him that Sidney feels like he rarely sees.

“I think when Geno called you a booty call and I got a bit defensive about it,” Sidney says flatly, making Alex breathe out a small laugh. “Also maybe when I wore your shirt to bed. And then again tonight to the game because I liked having a bit of you with me.”

“You stole my shirt?” Alex asks, biting his lip like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.

“Not on purpose,” Sidney says, face heating up. “I grabbed it by accident the other morning. I thought it was mine-”

“It probably looks better on you,” Alex teases lightly, and Sidney’s blush deepens.

Alex’s free hand comes up to cup Sidney’s face, and Sidney meets him halfway in a kiss, one that’s still slow and deep and steady. Sidney lets Alex push down on his shoulder, the two of them sprawling out together on the couch, Alex a familiar weight on top of Sidney.

“Been a long time for me too,” Alex says, nose nuzzling against Sidney’s cheek softly. “Want to take you out on boring dates and see you walk around my house in my clothes. Wanted for a long time.”

The tension in Sidney’s chest unfurls, replaced with something light and warm like when his skates touch the ice for the first time after a bad injury. He kisses Alex harder this time, their noses bumping slightly, and his hands scrambling a little over Alex’s back and shoulders.

“I really did clean my room for you,” Alex says, a little breathless, and Sidney groans.

“Shut up about your room.”

He wants Alex now, on this couch in Alex’s living room where he already has Alex, has all of him, for the first time in just the way that Sidney wants him. And he can tell that Alex wants this too, because he’s lifting Sidney’s sweatshirt over his head, laughing at the way it gets stuck over Sidney’s head before he notices what Sidney’s wearing underneath.

“It does look better on you,” Alex says, voice low and eyes dark. Sidney grins against his mouth when they kiss, his face warm and his heart thrumming pleasantly in his chest.

Alex’s dick is hard against Sidney’s thigh, and Sidney needs him, needs to be selfish again because this time he knows he’s allowed to be a little selfish. This isn’t just about wanting Alex for himself anymore, it’s about Alex wanting him back also.

Alex pushes Sidney’s pants down, taking him in his mouth. When Sidney goes to take his shirt off, Alex stops him, stopping his movements with a firm hand on top of Sidney’s. “Keep it on,” he says, voice hoarse, before he’s sucking on the tip of Sidney’s dick again.

Sidney’s very, very aware of how he must look, his face red, biting down hard on his lip, wearing nothing but Alex’s shirt, Alex’s number bold on his chest. He can feel the nudge of his dick hitting the back of Alex’s throat, and he gasps, loud.

“Want to see you like this all the time. In my clothes, in my number. Want everyone to know you’re mine,” Alex says, moving up to kiss Sidney, Sidney shivering at the heady taste of his mouth, and the feeling of Alex’s hand snaking up his shirt and running blunt nails down his skin.

With his other hand, Alex pushes his own sweats down, wrapping a large hand around both their dicks. Sidney’s surprised when Alex comes first, thick stripes of white streaking against the dark fabric of his shirt and the exposed part of his Sidney’s stomach. Sidney’s quick to follow, though, Alex’s name falling from his lips before Alex kisses him hard and filthy, biting down on his already sore lip.

“We ruined your shirt,” Sidney laughs, and Alex nips at his mouth a bit more playfully.

“It’s fine, have lots more. You could take couple with you. Maybe Team Russia shirt?”

“Never.”

“You would look good in red.”

“I only wear red when there’s a maple leaf in front.”

Alex scoffs and Sidney kisses his quick and soft in reply.

When they part, Alex’s brows are furrowed a little, like he’s thinking. Sidney’s about to ask what it is, but before he can, Alex says, “Wait one minute, have something for you.”

He’s up and heading towards the stairs after getting his sweats back on, leaving Sidney confused on the couch.

While he waits, Sidney strips out of the ruined shirt and back into his pants. The room is cold, though, without his shirt and without Alex’s body heat to keep him warm. He stands up, stretching the stiff muscles in his back and shoulders as he looks around him. Alex really did clean up, but there’s a sweatshirt draped over the back of a chair and Sidney slips into that. It’s large and warm and it smells like Alex the way his shirt did when Sidney first wore it.

Sidney curls back up on the couch. He thinks about what it would be like doing this some other time, when they’re not pressured by the constraints of their regular season schedule. He wants to spend time with just Alex, can imagine them on this couch on a slow night, Sidney reading a book, Alex tucked into his side, playing on his phone. They could have that, probably, one day. Sidney hopes so, at least.

Alex is back quickly, and he rolls his eyes when he sees what Sidney’s wearing. Sidney smiles sheepishly and says defensively, “I was cold.”

“Whatever, you look cute, it’s fine.”

Sidney smiles and asks, “Where did you disappear to?”

Alex smiles back, large and toothy, his eyes crinkled at the sides. “Told you, have something for you.”

From the inside of his pockets, Alex takes out a thin gold chain. It’s simple, elegant, and hanging from it a small pendant in the shape of the number eight.

“Oh,” Sidney says in surprise, not knowing what to do when Alex unhooks it and places it around his neck.

“You say you want part of me to keep with you, now you have something. You don’t have to wear it all the time, but maybe could keep it somewhere, in pocket, in wallet. A reminder of me.”

Sidney thumbs at the pendant slowly, still a little dazed. Alex looks uncharacteristically nervous as he watches for Sidney’s reaction, only relaxing when Sidney smiles and finally says, “Thank you,” his voice thick.

“You like it?”

“It’s perfect,” Sidney admits.

“Good,” Alex says, grinning. “One day, I’ll take you out on date. Just you and me in city. I’ll show you better time than Flower. Until then, necklace can be reminder that you have me.”

“Don’t think I would’ve forgotten anyway,” Sidney says.

Not for the first time, Sidney’s amazed at how much the two of them just click. There’s a lot of things that come easy to Sidney, hockey and spitting out bland answers in interviews and smiling for fans. Being with Alex is a different kind of easy. It wasn’t always, it’s taken work and patience and growing up and putting aside their differences, but they’ve made it work. And Sidney’s glad that after all this time, they’ve found a way that they can just fit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated.
> 
> I'm always free to talk about being in love with Alex Ovechkin on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/tjoshov) and [tumblr](http://tjoshov.tumblr.com)!


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